Time Baby
by Springheeled Jack's Devil
Summary: This is the first in the series of the Master's daughter. Starts from babyhood, so no JackxOC! MasterxRose MasterxLucy DoctorxRose Summary is not as good as content, Time Lord honour :
1. Chapter 1

**So hey!**

**This is a fic about what happens to Lucy after the Valiant, but also a little surprise that Lucy receives on her first day in jail. **

**Companion One-Shots WILL be updated soon, this time the continuation of chapter two. If you are reading this, go read it! Review that...and this please!**

**Springy J**

BANG.

Lucy didn't expect it to be so loud. The gun knocked her hand upwards as the bullet shot out, and her wrist vibrated with the force. Everybody looked at her, and for a split second, there was silence. Cold, terrifying silence. And then there was a warm hand gently pulling the gun from her immobile fingers, and a brown-suited figure kneeling beside her husband. No, she corrected. Not her husband. A murderer. A ice-blooded killer.

The warm hand belonged to a strong arm that pulled her away, and, with the same gentleness, attached cuffs to her wrists like a criminal. She forced herself to look up, and saw it was that Captain. Jack, she thought. She couldn't be sure, as The Master had always referred to him as the 'punchbag'. Her blue eyes darted to the dying man crumpled on the floor. He was talking to the Doctor. The Doctor was crying. Tears. Sadness. The Master had buried her feelings so deep she had no longer felt anything but a blind obedience, to serve him and no-one but him.

His dark head lolled in the Doctor's lap, and she knew he was dead. Her heart began to crack. Slowly, it split apart and warmth ran down her cheeks. The teardrops went unbrushed, no hand came to wipe them away. Her back heaved with her sobs as the Doctor howled his lament. Martha and her family looked shaken, Captain Jack staring with empty eyes at Harold Saxon's closed ones. The mourning song of the Master's was of the weeping of his wife and the cries of his enemy.

"I hereby charge Lucy Anne Saxon of murdering Harold Saxon, former Prime Minister, and give her twenty years of jail time."

Those words struck her weak heart like a savage blow. Lucy stared up at the UNIT judge, her mourning clothes the only thing she now had left in the world. It was a small courtroom. Insignificant in a way. Lucy's trial was short and brief – the injustice of it all almost made her laugh. Who was it that suffered under the Master's hand for so long, enduring his abusive ways and sharp insults? Who was it, that, after only a few nights spent with her husband, was roughly pushed out of the way so she could watch from afar as he bedded girl after girl because of their 'pretty faces'? Her. And here she was, taking the punishment for something Francine Jones and her children had plotted to do for a whole year.

"This is not justice!" A voice screamed as she was dragged away. It took her a while to realise it was her own lips that issued those words.

Her pleas went ignored, her black dress torn from her body, and she was tugged into horrible, scratchy prison clothes. They consisted of a sleeveless grey top and long grey trousers that resembled tracksuit bottoms. She was shoved into a van, blindfolded, and driven to a secret location. When the blindfold was torn away from her eyes, she knew with a dark certainty that this was no ordinary prison. Something had gone terribly wrong. This was not UNIT's work.

She was in a wood-panelled hall, with doors lining the corridor and fires burning in brands hoisted on the wall. A blonde middle-aged woman flanked by security guards and an elderly female general stood smiling at the end. Her heels clicked on the floor as she neared. Lucy winced as the steely-grey eyes bore into hers. She had a plain, lined face and her clothes were a little too snug around her hefty paunch.

"Lucy Saxon." She stated, her red-fingernailed hand grasping Lucy's shoulder.

"We have a very special cell for you."

The woman looked up and nodded at the guard who stood behind Lucy. A hand was at the small of her back and she was pushed forward into the farthest room at the end. In the firelight she glimpsed a large, empty room with a bed in the corner and a few sparse furnishings, and then the room was plunged into a darkness and a blot slid on the outside.

Lucy pushed down the lump in her throat, and sat down on the bed. She fumbled in the dark for any windows, and was surprised to find one with bars across it and curtains above her drawers. She flicked them open, and moonlight shone into the room. She saw a chair and table with a sheet of paper and a tumbler of pens by the door. A rug had been stretched across the cold stone floor, and sink and mirror at the far corner. It was a clumsy attempt to make the cell seem homely.

She wondered briefly why they had gone to such trouble to make her feel at home, but she had never been the brightest of women, and soon her dull mind had already stopped thinking about it. There was nothing else to do except sleep, and Lucy was already succumbing to the blissful idea of escaping in her dreams.

Lying down on the bed, Lucy wriggled under the thin covers. The lumps in the mattress dug into her back, and she turned so she was on her side. She was just about to drift off when she noticed that her stomach was slightly heavier. The blonde couldn't recall the last time she had eaten profusely, and she was definitely not fat. The Master had made sure she had kept her body trim, because he wanted a prize at his side, not a 'bulging blimp'.

A thought crossed her mind that made her stiffen. She straightened, sitting up against the metal bed frame. She counted mentally in her head, her fingers keeping count of the weeks. 4 weeks, 5 weeks, 6...No. It couldn't be. She tried to dredge up the exact date of the last time the Master had loved her in his dark bedroom. About a month and a half ago. She gave a dry sob and pressed her hand against her belly. More than a month since her last period. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed, but then, when Hell is descending, who would've noticed?

Lucy Saxon, pregnant. Pregnant with The Master's baby. She didn't even know how it worked, seeing as she had flunked all her Biology classes. All she could remember is morning sickness, and pictures of a healthy bump pushing out of the mid-section of a woman's body. She glanced down at the almost microscopic curving her stomach. It was hard and taut where she touched it. Forcing herself to remember, another fact came up. Women don't show until they are in the region of 4-7 months. She was definitely not that far along.

Was Time Lord pregnancy different? Would her baby be born with two hearts? Seeing as the Time Lords had that regeneration thing, could her son/daughter live forever? The questions spilled out of her brain, and she massaged her temples beneath her flaxen hair. Another terrifying thought passed her by. Would these strange people, these definitely NOT UNIT people, take her baby away? A sudden vibration made her jump. And then she felt something _touch her mind._

It was brief, fleeting, but carrying a note of worry. Like mother's fingers brushing against an unhappy child's cheek. Comforting in a way, and worried. She realised with a start that it was the baby. Her baby. She recalled how the Master could read people's minds by pressing his fingers on either side of their heads, sorting through the brainwaves, and figuring out their complicated language. She hadn't understood it herself, but she had a vague idea. And now, her unborn child was trying to _comfort _her. In the blood that ran through its veins, there was Time Lord essence. Time Lord power.

A fierce love wrapped around her heart, and she rubbed her belly soothingly, cooing softly.

"Don't you worry, Time baby. Mamma's got you."

She lay on her back, and let sleep enfold her. Her dreams were of a blonde baby in her arms, smiling up at her beneath the two suns of Gallifrey.

**OMG Lucy's GOT A BABY! The Master has a little evil son/daughter. Awww. **

**Story Alerts and Faves are flattering, but PMs and Reviews make me smile even wider :)**

**REVIEWWWWW!**

**Springy J**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! This got a better reaction than I thought! Is it really that good? And here I am thinking it's terrible. Still. Nice surprise! **

**BIG THANKS to Torchwood5, Renart, All Cats Are Grey, Madasmonty, DarkRiddlesDestiny, Aubepine, Yunagirlamy, themask77, GallifreyanCultOfSkaro, lilyean24, and bambieyes1234 for all the story alerts and pennames! **

**BUT EVEN BIGGER THANKS (SHOCK HORROR) to RENART(it is? :)), ALL CATS ARE GREY( I bloody love you, that was the nicest review I've ever had), MADASMONTY(My idea! You no touchie! BTW, thanks, I am rather a genius, aren't I?), DARKRIDDLESDESTINY (your review made me smile and laugh, thanks!) GALLIFREYANCULTOFSKARO (*grins* How did you guess?), and BAMBIEYES1234 (dontcha worry, here it is!) for reviewing! **

**All those who story alerted and pennamed are given a TIMECOOKIE and all those who reviewed are given TARDISCAKE as well! **

**If you review, you get a reply! Isn't that nice? AND a shout out in the next author's note. In short, please, please review!**

**Springy J **

The sunlight that filtered through the iron bars was cold and bleak. Lucy lay in bed, twisted like a puppet without strings. The blankets were twisted around her slender frame, a reminder of her fitful, dreamless sleep. She awoke as soon as the rays glided across her closed lids. It was a habit now from years before to wake as soon as the sun rose - better to wake early than to have the Master, particularly vicious after a mood swing, come into her bedroom and beat her awake.

She straightened and automatically smoothed out the bed covers. She was still clad in the clothes she wore three days ago – the day she was sent to this emotionless prison. There were no guards that she knew of behind the bolted door and the only nourishment and human contact she received was a tray of food pushed through a narrow one-way slat. All the while, the curve of her stomach had been expanding ever so slightly.

Lucy yawned and slipped daintily out of bed. She padded over to the taps and washed her face and hair with the cold water that flowed from the single spout, and then dried herself with a rough towel from the bedside drawers. She was vaguely aware of the black camera swivelling its eye to follow her, but tiny things like that didn't bother her anymore.

The mirror above her sink was bolted into place, and the glass was clouded and scratched around the edges. Her blonde hair rippled as she allowed herself a humourless chuckle. She was LUCY SAXON, the daughter of a politician and the former wife of a prime-minister, who'd grown up in the lap of luxury sucking at a silver spoon. And here she was, gazing at her haggard reflection in a damp stone cell years later. Life had an unpleasant way of turning on you.

Lucy tugged out a stool from beneath her bed and placed it by the sink. She clambered on top and began to undress, taking off her thin top first. She'd found a solution to her captors if they suspected something strange with her looking at her stomach each morning. So, on the first morning in her cell, they'd pushed red cabbage salad and potatoes through her flap to eat.

She'd eaten innocently enough, but slipped a moist leaf into her hand and afterward, rubbed her belly as if full. Her hand rubbed against the bare skin of her stomach, and now she looked like a large red rash had spread across the area. The dye wouldn't stain for more than a week, but the food she had been given had been as simple as possible, so she guessed that it would crop up on the menu soon enough.

Gazing proudly at the area, she skimmed her fingers lightly over what was her baby.

"Hello darling," she murmured softly. Lucy looked carefully at the size of the swell, and saw that it had increased slightly. Even she could work out the rate of how her baby was growing. Judging by the size of her stomach, she was nearing 3 months. 1 month per day. In the next week or so, it was probable that she would give birth. And by the time she was on the 6th day, she would look so pregnant that even her fooled captors would guess.

Suddenly, the hinges of her door creaked. Whoever the grey-eyed woman was, she'd decided that her prisoner should be visited that day. Lucy quickly pulled her grey vest over herself and sat on the bed, trying to look as dull as possible. The metal door gave way with a groan and two armed guards walked in, shadowing a short man with a thatch of grey hair. His small black eyes blinked behind heavy glasses, and he wore a white lab coat with a few pens sticking out of the outer pocket.

"Miss Saxon," the short man said formally, his voice high and reedy. Lucy stood and shook her bangs from her eyes.

"Yes?"

"I am Professor Wilton. Will you please accompany me?"

The way he said and worded it may have seemed like a simple request, but she heard the hammer knocking back on the semi-automatic machine guns the guards had strapped across their backs. She held her head high as she was guided through winding corridors and down multiple staircases. There were no windows, so she only had a vague sense of it being morning as she was ushered into a lab.

The room reeked of bleach and cleanliness. Complicated instruments lay on gleaming trays, and there was an operating table dominating the middle, surrounded by high-tech equipment. Wilton gestured toward a glass-screened stall in the corner, with a flat white board at the bottom hooked up to a monitor.

"Please stand on the platform."

Lucy hesitated. For all she knew, that could be a death chamber. What if they found out about her baby? But a glance back at the emotionless guards probed her forward. She stepped carefully onto her designated place, wincing as the screen was closed over her face. It was clear and see-through, and she saw Wilton and several assistants push buttons and tap instructions into the software. Eventually, he looked up at her.

"Stretch your arms up, please." he asked.

She raised her arms above her head and gasped as a laser, starting at the bottom, spread across her entire body, wavering slightly at her stomach. Resisting the urge to flee, she dropped her hands on command and stepped out of the stall.

"Name: Lucy Saxon. Age: 31. Weight: Approximately 10 stones. Height: 5 foot 5 inches. Correct?"

Lucy found herself nodding, even though she knew before she only weighed 9 and a half stone. The tests that were carried out afterward became relatively boring. They tested her reflexes, looked into her eyes and ears, and took a blood sample. There were only one thing that happened that was out of the ordinary.

A pretty young woman with dark eyes and blonde hair took her aside for her check-up. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she kept blinking behind her glasses, as if they weren't comfortable. She was the only one that smiled warmly at her, and actually made an effort to talk to her.

"Hello," she tried. Lucy looked up, startled. Opposite her, the assistant looked expectantly at her. The stethoscope lay forgotten in her hands. They were in a silent corner, whilst the other scientists bustled about entering data into computers and jotting Lucy's details down.

There was something strange about the woman, too. The air around her was hazy, as if she hadn't been pointed out Lucy wouldn't have noticed her. In fact, it was hard to keep her eyes on her. She was unintentionally being avoidable.

"Hello." She replied uncertainly.

The assistant broke into a smile like Lucy had done the nicest thing in the world. It was a dazzling smile that had her returning a shy grin for the first time in – well, weeks. Lucy peered at the tag clipped to the pocket of her coat.

"Why are you talking to me Miss – Jenny?"

The brilliant smile dimmed a little. She leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Lucy had the sudden strange feeling that this Jenny was not exactly the same as the lab coat clad people milling around behind her. Come to think of it, Jenny was not like them at ALL. Her hair was straightened, nothing could be that naturally straight, and she doubted professional evil scientists had time for their appearance. Those dark eyes had black eyeliner applied stylishly on her lower and upper eye. Her pink lips shimmered with clear lipgloss. And as she shifted slightly, Lucy caught a sense of a sweet, floral scent drifting off her skin in the form of perfume.

It was hard to follow this examination of the girl because her concentration kept slipping – her mind couldn't get a good hold on her image. Lucy considered running from her. Was this another person to steal her away? And then, for the first time in three days, her baby reached out to her again. Throughout her realisation of the baby being there, she'd had another presence at the back of her mind. She'd known it was the baby of course, but now it was trying to contact her. Concentrating, Lucy tried to lower her mental barrier and let the presence in.

Jenny saw her features tighten and moved forward, concerned. Lucy held up a hand, eyes still closed.

"Please – give me a moment."

The younger girl withdrew and watched as Lucy struggled within herself.

Lucy pressed her fingers to her temples in an effort to concentrate. Her lips became a pressed, tight line as she focused intently on the presence desperately trying to be felt. It was close now, brushing the border around Lucy's subconscious. Mother and child strained to reach each other, both pushing with all their might. Then the barrier was broken through, and the baby's mind flooded Lucy's.

She gasped with shock as an intense feeling of frustration and strain settled inside her, nestling in between her emotions and thoughts. The onslaught stopped, and then a strong feeling of triumph came from inside. And then came something she had not expected. A flash of images. Everything the baby had seen in Lucy's mind, fitted together in some sort of a visual sentence. Lucy gritted her teeth as the baby showed the Doctor, and then the more recent image of Jenny. Her child of course did not know who they were, because the moment the baby's mind had delved into her memories, she'd mentally locked down all of her memories of - _him_. It was _her _baby, and the Master in her mind would never be shown to the child inside her.

The sentence came again and again, until Lucy found the meaning. Somehow, the baby had linked the Doctor and Jenny together. There was a background of feeling as well, to emphasise the main part. There was the Doctor, walking and smiling in her mind. She remembered watching him doing that on a video the Master had stolen from Torchwood, a recording off a surveillance camera. And then there was the recent sight of Jenny, her eyes bright as she grinned. The pushing feeling behind it all was love. Not like a lover might love a sweetheart, but a gentle, more caring love. The meaning was clear, but impossible. Jenny was the Doctor's daughter.

Tired, Lucy felt the baby drift away, exhausted from the mental battle. Lucy hesitated, then tried to send after it an emotion of love. A moment passed, and before the presence disappeared completely, there came the warm glow of happiness radiating from her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Jenny staring at her worriedly, the look on her face half torn between helping her and the instruction she had been given.

A wobbly smile spread over her face. Her baby had contacted her.

"Er...Mrs Saxon?"

Jenny's voice brought back the conversation between her and the baby. She was the Doctor's daughter. Finding no other way to ask it tactically, Lucy decided to say it straight.

"Are you the Doctor's daughter?"

Jenny's eyes went wide and she brought a frantic finger to her lips.

"Ssssh! Do you want someone to hear?"

The composed assistant discarded her facade and looked Lucy straight in the eye, dark brown penetrating clear blue.

"How do you know?"

"My b – The Master told me."

"That prick. I suppose you know why I'm here then?"

"Yes," Lucy lied.

"I'm here to get you out. The Soothsayer said it to be."

"Who?"

Jenny let out an annoyed huff. Lucy stiffened slightly. This small movement of irritation was not unfamiliar to her – the Master had many a time openly showed his feelings about her obliviousness to the alien world.

Backpedalling hastily, Jenny explained herself at the sight of a slightly downtrodden woman."The Soothsayer in the Blaa DeKlasse Sector. I asked him about my father, and he said to find the immortal slayer. He wouldn't say anything more, and the Porstopilix people are a rather stubborn kind – I had to manoever my craft down to Earth, and took a quick detour into Torchwood. From then, it was simple.

They were still high on a murder – The Master's murder. Of course, at the mention of 'Time Lord', that case was my top priority. A few clever words and the show of professional looking papers normally clears things up – I knew everything. Who he was, who you are, what happened to you – and what happened to my father. The Doctor. Tortured brutally and without mercy – forcing him out of his regeneration cycle, taunting him and Martha, destroying almost the entire Earth….the list goes on. I had to avenge him. Who else but me would? So, I thought, why not find you? You killed the Master, cleared half of my debt, and you were in a secret prison that I knew the inner workings of. It was meant to be!"

Jenny's voice was rising with her excitement, and as a loud detector chirped at some distance away from them, a few of the scientists were beginning to throw brief, suspicious glances their way. Following Lucy's gaze, Jenny quickly worked out what was happened and sped things up a little.

"Basically, I got myself a job here, worked my way into being an assistant working under your scientist, and here I am! There's a Borion Aircraft 370 waiting outside, with the invisibility shield on. Invisible, but not undetectable. We need to move. Lean forward."

Lucy obeyed, leaning forward so Jenny could place the key around her neck too.

Jenny crouched and fished a complicated looking mechanism about the size and shape of a hen's egg from her pocket. Lucy saw a thin piece of metal, like a scalpel, twisting out of the middle. It curved outward at the point, forming a raised oval plate that had grooves over the front. Jenny grinned, and, with the pad of her thumb, pressed against it. The soft skin did not break, but the mechanism vibrated slightly and the wiring underneath glowed under the slightly transparent shell.

"This is a stupendously amazing – thingamob. Like a useful thingamob, this can do all sorts of things. Like a really, really high tech Swiss Army Knife with a laser built in. Much more powerful and compact than the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, this was locked up in a safe in Torchwood, and I barely escaped with my arm intact braving those guns protecting it."

"Does it have a teleport?" Lucy asked, nearing a little closer to get a better look. Jenny raised her eyebrows.

"You ARE getting good at this. Yes, it does. But the teleport provokes an electrical pulse – that will definitely give a bang, and even this perception filter key can't keep that unnoticed. This is a fairly simple teleport, a slightly older version of the flashier modern ones – it takes up to four people. Teleports work like gravity bubbles – expanding out, coming in, and then expanding again to move objects or people." Jenny made a few subtle movements with her fingers against the sides of the egg.

"Ah…here we go! Do you see that little black network of lines just under my nail? That's the teleport chip. It'll come out in a second. Brace yourself!"

The teleport chip gave a little sigh, then a wobbly bubble expanded from it. It was like thickened water, yet when Lucy reached out and touched it gingerly, her hand went through it easily. It felt a little strange – like dipping your hand in a pool of water, yet only feeling the movement against your hand and not feeling the wetness.

"Hold tight..."

Those were the last words Jenny spoke before the teleport gave an impressive roar, and Lucy felt herself being jerked forward…into nothingness.

**DUN DUN DUNNNNNN!**

**Oh yes, I am evil :D**

**Springy J**


	3. Chapter 3

**5 REVIEWS 1 MESSAGE AND A STORY ALERT FTW**

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…**..not that much difference, really. I'm kidding! ((((not))))**

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**Herrrrrrrrre's the update!**

A scream. Someone, a familiar voice, shouting at her to – what was it? Everything was a noise, the air around her a blur. She couldn't see for the blonde hair whipping in front of her eyes. Her ears suddenly popped, her vision became clear, and she finally realised a second too late what Jenny was screaming.

"LOOK OUT!"

The ground rushed to meet her and she thrust her palms forward, skidding painfully on her hands as the momentum carried her forward. She twisted to avoid her stomach being hit and lay, winded, breathing heavily. A trickle of scarlet ran down her cheek and she tried to raise an arm to brush it away. Her strength left her, and she realised with a dull moment of clarity her head was bleeding profusely. Not good. With her remaining energy, Lucy gave a slurred moan and sub-consciously lay a hand on her belly. Before darkness took her, she saw Jenny run toward her and kneel by her side.

_Beep. Beep Beep. Beep. Beep Beep. _

Lucy's eyes fluttered open to the sound of humming machinery. As she tried to sit up, she felt pain throb through her hands and crisp her scalp, and gasped, falling back down and suppressing the scream.

"Ow," she whispered, touching her head. This was no headache. Looking up, Lucy saw a low ceiling of intertwining wires and alien technology. Either side of her were vibrating engines, and she realised she was in the small, narrow area at the back of Jenny's spaceship. Hurried footsteps announced the girl's arrival, and Lucy rather felt than saw the gentle hands carefully lifting her up into a sitting position.

With a grin, Jenny sat opposite Lucy's sheet-covered legs and prodded them.

"Does that hurt?"

"AGH! Yes!"

"Well that'll teach you to land on your limbs when you're teleported. Don't you know you're supposed to spread your weight?"

A blank look told it all.

"Oh. Right. You didn't. Well, the point of the matter is, you're alive!"

Lucy smiled at Jenny's joking tone.

"And the baby too."

It took a few seconds to sink in. Once it had, Lucy felt cold fear clutch at her and instinctively grabbed her torso with her sore hands.

"How…?"

Jenny rolled her eyes, leaned forward, and took the cover off Lucy's tummy.

Lucy stared down at it, not quite believing her eyes. From the look of it, she was almost 5 months into her pregnancy. The gentle curve of her stomach from days before had become an impressive swell. The taut, protruding bump that Lucy had glimpsed in magazines and pictures had become her own. Her gaze became a little dreamy as she ran her fingers over the top of her baby. _My own._

She looked up, and was surprised to find Jenny leaning eagerly forward, her expression rapt. She leapt back at the sign of discomfort on Lucy's face, then an apologetic look crossed her face.

"Sorry. I – I just don't know anything about human babies. This is the first time I've actually come close to one."

Lucy smiled.

"Well, my baby's not entirely human. A little part of – it, I suppose, is Time Lord."

Both women grimaced at the mention of the Master.

Jenny came forward a little, and extended a hand in question.

"May I…?"

"Of course."

Lucy felt a glow of pride as she pulled up her top, the complaints of her bruised limbs and head pushed aside. The skin underneath was slightly dyed still from the red cabbage, but was healthy enough, stretching evenly over her baby. Jenny carefully placed a hand on the bump, smiling at the unmistakable pulse of life underneath.

Lucy closed her eyes and sat revelling at the thought of a child to hold, a child that would affectionately cling to her, a child that she could spoil and care for, and, when it had passed babyhood, it would love her in return…

And then it happened. Two things happened simultaneously - Jenny gasped and whipped her hand away from Lucy's stomach. Lucy let out a sound bordering between shock, pain, and ecstasy.

A light flush blossomed across the area where, moments ago, the baby inside had kicked at the wall surrounding it. Lucy looked up, her eyes shining.

"Did you –"

"Oh my –"

"It kicked!"

Jenny and Lucy cooed together like they had, not minutes before, had been thinking suspicious thoughts about each other. Jenny reached forward again and placed her hand over the baby again, this time with undisguised eagerness.

There was a second of hesitance. And then, as if Jenny's touch was a signal, the baby kicked enthusiastically at the spot where she pointed. Lucy, a little out of breath, indicated Jenny move her hand off.

"You try!" Jenny said as soon as Lucy had regained her strength. Lucy looked warily at the girl crouched by her bed.

"Go on!" she prompted, picking Lucy's pale hand up. "You ARE the mother, after all." Lucy took her hand back. She held it over her child for a minute, hovering uncertainly. Then she let it drop.

Her skin was warm with the blood rushing to the surface. There came a faint tug from the subconscious being that had resided in her mind for the past few days. And then it came. A rush of emotion, similar to the one she had experienced at the lab, but magnified by the simple act of her hand touching it physically.

Suddenly she was greeted by an overwhelming mass of happiness and greeting, like someone was hugging her as tight as they could. Remembering the feedback she could convey, Lucy tried to send back an equal amount, a little hard due to her fatigue. The baby inside kicked again with joy, as Jenny watched all this with a sharp eye. What followed was a sort of conversation – Lucy mentally stroking its head, the baby sending visual images of it, as if they were actually together.

"The baby." Jenny said.

Lucy looked up, a dreamy look still on her face. The baby twisted a little at the attention loss.

"You can talk to it, can't you?"

Lucy sighed. This girl was a little too smart for her own good. Still, there was no harm in telling her. She had broken her out.

"We have a – link. We can send each other thoughts, actions – not words, but emotions. It's the most amazing experience."

Jenny nodded, smiling. Lucy lay back again, returning to her attention to the now-curious baby. They both returned to their silent reverie. All of a sudden, a new feeling drifted through the barrage of emotion. It took a second to realise hunger.

"Jenny?"

"Hmm?" She had been propped up against the wall, leaning back on her chair as she watched Lucy.

"The baby. It's hungry."

"You both are," Jenny remarked, and as she said it, Lucy felt her own stomach churn and realised that she hadn't eaten since the yesterday afternoon, before she met Jenny. Jenny stood, her hand held out.

"Come. This spaceship's quite big – three cabins, side by side. This is the first. The second's the kitchen, the third the bathroom. At the front is the control board – fluid controls, my favourite! Can you stand?"

"I – I think so," Lucy replied, gingerly taking Jenny's hand and standing up on shaking legs. Her head throbbed with pain and her arms and legs could've been sticks of wood, but she managed to stumble along with Jenny helping her.

The cabin she was in was about the size of a small room – she could've touched one end, and in three strides, touched the other end. Looking back, she saw her bed in the corner, with Jenny's bed before the door. They occupied most of the space. All the rest were normal things, with the occasional alien piece.

Jenny used a button to open the door, and they both walked into the kitchen, passing the control board that seemed to have buttons and switched made of water beneath a Perspex screen. The kitchen was the same size as the bedroom, very basic. Lucy sat slowly down into a steel chair, cradling her stomach.

"Chicken soup?" Jenny asked. "Yes, please."

"Alrighty!"

Jenny whizzed around the counters and tabletops, pulling out pans and ingredients from the appliances around her. Meanwhile, Lucy tried to brush out her hair with her swollen fingers, smoothing it down the best she could. She explored her face as well, feeling the hot flush in her cheeks and the warm forehead. So this was what it was like to be pregnant.

"Here," Jenny said kindly, handing Lucy a mirror. Lucy gazed at her reflection, wincing at what she saw. Her face seemed to be blown up – her skin unnaturally pale, a redness in her cheeks, a little sweaty. Her hair was limp and straggly, hanging in thin strands around her face and shoulders. She was still wearing those god awful prison clothes, so a musty smell rose from the grey fabric. She sniffed at them and recoiled in disgust.

All the rest of her body had changed – she had gained in her chest and hips, and there was now no mistaking the bump protruding from her torso, so large she could easily touch her chin to it. How far was she physically? 4 months – 4 months in four days. A month a day. That meant in round about 5 days, she would give birth. Something cold shot through her.

Before she could dwell on it further, a steaming bowl was slid in front of her. A spoon balanced on the rim, dipping slightly into the savoury soup. Lucy took it at sipped at the liquid swirling in it. It was hot and perfect, the chicken supplying her with her much needed strength. Various vegetables and strange, purply-black rolls floated at the bottom, as well as the shreds of meat.

"It's perfect, thankyou." Lucy praised, and Jenny smiled. She prodded a roll with her spoon and looked up.

"But what's this?"

Jenny hunkered down and swiped one, popping it into her mouth.

"Mmmm," she said. "It's a Vestevian roll. It helps with pregnant Vestes, so I thought it would work for you. Tastes like beef wellington. Try one."

Lucy swallowed, then ate one. It tastes chewy, and exactly like beef wellington, warm and delicious. After that, Lucy took no hesitation in finishing the entire bowl, and soon she was staring down at the empty ceramic bottom, a few dregs clinging to the sides. She swept a finger round them and sucked it, taking the last drops. Suddenly, her gorge rose. An unexplainable reaction, her whole body was rejecting the food, bile rising in her throat.

"Help!" she moaned, grabbing Jenny and using her to propel herself to the nearest sink. Her stomach lurched, and she was sick into the basin, coughing and spluttering. Jenny held her hair back, murmuring soothing sounds as she rubbed her back.

"It'll happen," she explained, helping Lucy back to the bed. "You're pregnant now. Expect a lot worse. Although, on the plus side, you've found your craving."

Lucy raised an eyebrow, still quivering as she lay on the bed.

"Chicken soup with Vestevian rolls. I've never seen anyone else finish that off so quick, and I've been around." Jenny grinned. Lucy rolled her eyes and fell back into the safety of her pillow.

"Where are we going? The Moon?" Lucy asked, her eyes still closed. Even though she may have seemed weak at the Master's side, she still had a little fire in her. Throwing a tantrum was far away, but she still was able to attempt sarcasm.

"Hey, I'm helping you here!" Jenny called reprovingly from the control board. She flipped a switch, and a joystick similar to a steering wheel rose from the flowing controls. With an expert motion, Jenny raised the sheet of metal obscuring the front screen from view, then twisted a dial beside her thumb. The engine roared, and the spaceship set off, moving off from its stationary position.

Lucy jerked under the covers, and found the energy to raise her head and glare at the girl driving them off into the unknown. Jenny returned the look with a dazzling smile.

"I don't know." Jenny saw Lucy's questioning look. "I don't know where we are going. I think we'll patrol the skies until I can find on this map a safe place for us to settle until I can mend this thing."

Jenny slapped the metal wall to her right. "This baby can't fly into space just yet. The extrapolator shielding is filled with holes – not a pretty sight if we get burnt up in the atmosphere. You have any ideas where we can go?"

Lucy was about to answer 'no', but suddenly it came to her. A slow, easy smile spread over her face. Everything would be OK.

"Yes," Lucy said, sighing. "My father's. We are heading for the Cole Estate, property of Ex-Sergeant Horace Cole." As she said that, she glanced down at the baby. This was going to take A LOT of explaining.

**If this story isn't moving along plotwise fast enough, forgive me, oh patient ones, a thousand apologies!**

**Springy J **


	4. Author's Note!

**Ok everybody. **

**Next chapters are coming up soon, don't worry, but this is something a LITTLE different...**

**There is an author on fanfiction, who is probably the saddest, most idiotic person who has insulted and degraded both me and a friend of mine on here. **

**She is in fact 13, but parades herself as an 18 year old named 'Amy Mcdonald'. **

**She has two accounts – Crazedfan1997, and Writer1992. My friend xPPx had been continually abused by her comments, and now she has turned on me. **

**Please go to this author and try and talk some sense into her – I'll doubt you'll get far, but enough is enough. **

**SJ**


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